


Quick on the Draw?

by hgdoghouse



Category: The Professionals
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-12
Updated: 2012-01-12
Packaged: 2017-10-29 10:03:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/318692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hgdoghouse/pseuds/hgdoghouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Doyle can't sleep...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quick on the Draw?

Bodie woke fully when a slick finger entered him, to discover his body was already co-operating with the familiar pleasure.

"You could just set the alarm," he complained, when one finger became two.

"Too noisy. I hope you're not this accommodating to everyone who wakes you up."

"You have..." Bodie exhaled as a greater bulk entered him, "...your own inimitable style."

"Yeah?" Doyle sounded pleased, if a little breathless. "What's that then?"

Bodie's breath caught. "Fast," he said tersely. "Are you trying for the world speed record?"

There was an offended pause, during which Doyle halted all activity and Bodie debated killing him.

"I didn't say stop," Bodie pointed out.

"You didn't say go, either."

"Well I'm saying it now. I was just getting into the swing of things."

Hunched over a broad back, Doyle battled with frustration until he was able to assess what he had been working on, the pad of his thumb teasing the weeping head of Bodie's cock.

"So you are. Never mind."

"You can't stop now," said Bodie, refusing to panic.

"Bet me?"

Bodie gave a flex and a wriggle, smirking with satisfaction when he heard Doyle's indrawn breath.

"That's ch-cheating," stuttered Doyle.

"All's fair in love and all that stuff. C'mon, Ray."

"I wouldn't want it said I was too pushy." The tension in Doyle's voice betrayed him.

Bodie gave an inelegant snort into the pillow. "That'd be a first. Shift your arse, mate," he said plaintively. "Only I'll get backache otherwise. A few push 'n pulls should see us off nicely."

"Teach your grandmother. And it's my...pleasure," sighed Doyle, after which the only sounds were of increasingly disorganised breathing as skin began to slap sweetly against skin, Bodie's fingers clenching and unclenching on the sides of the pillow.

 

 

"Well?" demanded Doyle with a trace of belligerence as he tossed sodden tissues into the waste bin, before sinking back down.

"Very." Bodie groped half-heartedly for the pillow which had slipped to the floor sometime during the proceedings. Only then did it occur to him that it was still dark, with none of the usual early morning noises he expected to hear. Glancing at the illuminated face of the alarm clock, he peered at it again before rolling over to glare at his partner.

"Do you know what time it is?" he growled, with a menace that was only partly assumed.

Unimpressed, Doyle tugged gently at a damp tuft of hair at Bodie's armpit. "Early?" he hazarded.

"Only if you call ten-to-four early."

"I must've taken longer over you than I thought. I couldn't sleep." Even an optimist would have been hard-pressed to detect a note of apology.

"That explains everything, of course." But the comment was more resigned than complaining as Bodie retrieved what he regarded as a fair proportion of the bedclothes. "I could murder a cup of tea."

"You know where the kitchen is."

"I thought, just for once, you might like to spoil me."

"Too late," said Doyle, yawning hugely, "you were ruined years ago."

Muttering under his breath Bodie slowly left the bed, one hand ostentatiously pressed to the small of his back before he pulled on a thick bathrobe, finding the early morning air chilly. By the time he had made and drunk his tea and eaten two cold sausages from the fridge, his mood was more forgiving. It soured when, returning to the bedroom, he discovered Doyle to be blissfully asleep.

Settling down in what little space Doyle had left him, Bodie folded his hands on his stomach in the confident expectation of similar sweet dreams.

An hour later, more awake than ever, he gave the softly exhaling Doyle a sour look and turned with enough force to jiggle the mattress. When that and a loud cough failed to do the trick, he leant over the sleeper and, without compunction, stuck his tongue deep into the ear closest to him.

Doyle woke with a yell which would have raised the dead, narrowly missing Bodie as he shot up in bed.

"You bastard," he moaned, vigorously drying the area with a corner of the sheet.

Bodie cocked his head. "I am, as it happens," he offered placidly, making himself more comfortable.

Doyle's head turned. "Yeah? Well, mere technicalities don't count. You've turned it into an art form. You know I hate my ears being mucked around with."

"Of course I do," said Bodie, offended that there should be any presumption that the assault had been accidental. He gave a pained grunt when Doyle's hand settled ungently over a sensitive area.

"A true-blue bastard. Insensitive bastard. Cretinous - " Doyle made a soft, helpless sound deep in his throat when Bodie began to massage his rump.

"You were saying?"

Staring into would-be innocent eyes, Doyle lightly bit Bodie's stubbled chin before his mouth softened as a finger traced down the cleft of his buttocks.

"Don't change the subject," he said weakly. "You're wasting your time if you're hoping for any response," he added in warning.

"Touching you is never a waste of time. What's that frown for?" Bodie added fondly a few minutes later.

"Am I really too quick on the draw?"

Staring into the face only inches from his own, Bodie's spreading grin soon became giggles. An irritable punch on his arm only made them worse.

"You're a warped human being," Doyle told him tartly, although his own mouth was twitching by this time.

"Then we're well-suited," retorted Bodie smugly.

"It's taken you long enough to admit as much."

"Thirty years, give or take a month. I would have thought it might have dawned on you that if I had any complaints about your performance, I would have mentioned them long before now. Like twenty-nine years, three hundred and fifty-one days ago."

Doyle's eyes rolled. "Unregenerate, inconsiderate, lying bastard," he accused, punctuating each word with a kiss before they settled down again.

Warm and content, a nudge in the ribs woke Bodie just as he was dozing off.

"Are you really a bastard?"

"Why? Wouldn't you have moved in with me if you'd known?" Bodie asked, wondering how they had managed to stay together all these years. Then he saw the face that was more familiar than his own, and smiled.

"As I recall, you came round one night because your central heating had packed up and I couldn't get rid of you, but who's arguing. Given this revelation, you aren't slowly working up to a confession about three wives and ten kids in your murky past, are you?" Doyle asked with suspicion.

"I sincerely hope not," mumbled Bodie drowsily. "On our pension we couldn't afford them. What are you grinning about now?"

"Nothing really. Was just thinking. I never feel my age when I'm with you. You don't think I'm suffering from the Peter Pan syndrome, do you? Only there's nothing sadder in blokes our age."

"Why me, Lord?" Bodie asked of the ceiling.

"Because you're in bed next to me," replied Doyle predictably.

His head turning on the pillow, Bodie's fingers sought out Doyle's, holding them tightly. "The only thing you're suffering from is an obnoxious personality - and if I haven't been able to improve it during all these years, it isn't likely to happen now. Don't waste your time worrying about syndromes. Just be thankful we survived to make old bones."

"Philosophical bastard," murmured Doyle contentedly, his eyes closing.

By the time the tomcat next door challenged an intruder, the lovers were asleep.

 

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Completed 29th November 1992
> 
>  
> 
> Published in Unprofessional Conduct 2


End file.
